


Somthin' I Gotta Say

by Ribbons_Undone



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Coming Out, Episode: s14e13 Lebanon, Headcanon Compliant, M/M, canon adjacent, wholesome John Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbons_Undone/pseuds/Ribbons_Undone
Summary: Episode Tag: 14x13: Lebanon – Dean tells John everything he wishes he had a chance to say when he was alive.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	Somthin' I Gotta Say

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE NOTE: Wholesome Winchester Moments ahead. Those who read may be at higher risk of heart failure. You have been warned. :3
> 
> Just something I wrote while ~~procrastinating~~ allowing inspiration for my main work to refuel! I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Halfway to the kitchen to help Mary with dinner, Dean stops abruptly and turns around, taking long strides back to where he left John Winchester with his thoughts.

“Dad, hey, wait up!”

Dean catches up to his father as he’s making his way down the hall to the room they assigned him earlier that day. It hurts to know he won’t even get the chance to use it once. Dean suspects John probably needs a moment to collect himself after everything Dean told him about the time paradox, but Dean—who after hearing the words _“I’m proud of you_ ,” come out of his father’s mouth—has one more thing that he needs to get off his chest. He’s gotta come clean to his old man or forever hold his peace, as the saying goes.

“I could use a moment to myself, son,” John tells him, and Dean smiles tightly at him in apology. He can’t blame his old man. Being presented with the love of his life and in the same day being told he can’t keep her? Dean knows exactly how he feels, only for him it’s the reverse. The way Cas looked at him back in the restaurant was… _haunting,_ to say the least.

“I know you do. Hell, I’m gonna need a few years myself after this whole deal, let me tell ya,” Dean says. He scratches at his nose with his finger and averts his eyes. “But I, uh…had one other thing to tell you before…well, you know.”

It’s silent between them for a beat, long enough where Dean can start to see the heartbreak in his father’s eyes. Something squeezes in his chest like a vice and grips him with a painful clarity.

“Well, son? Don’t keep me in suspense,” John finally says.

“Right,” Dean says. He pauses to gather his thoughts. “Well, see, the thing is…earlier, when I said I had a family? I…well, what I meant was…there’s family like Mom and Sammy, and Jack too I guess although that’s a little different. Kid’s like a son to all of us, strange as that sounds. Mom thinks of him as her grandson. And Cas…” Dean trails off, glancing up nervously to meet his father’s eyes and when he continues, his voice is hoarse. It grates on his throat like sandpaper.

“I mean, you’re not gonna remember any of this right? So this is like, my only chance to come clean.” Dean scoffs lightly and smirks a little at the irony, but it drops quickly off his face. “I should’ve told you this ages ago, but I was too much of a coward. Guess I was afraid of how you would react, whether you would…approve or not.”

Dean glances up again. John’s brow is pulled together and he’s looking at Dean steadily. He nods slightly, but whether it’s to agree with him or simply to urge him to continue, Dean can’t tell.

“Anyway, I’m bi. Hell, I’ve always been bi, I just never told you and I never acted on it until…until after you were gone. I was pretty conflicted about it for a while, hung up on what makes a ‘real man’ and all that bullshit, but I guess after a while I just got tired of it, or I simply forgot that’s how I was supposed to act? I dunno. Maybe with all the shit I’ve been through I just can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. Maybe I wanna be proud of this one piece of myself that isn’t overshadowed by memories of hell and torturing people, or The Mark, or purgatory, or everyone I’ve had to watch die over the years, Cas included—”

Dean breaks off abruptly, realizing he’s rambling and clears his throat. He looks down at his feet and shuffles them to cover up his unease. It’s difficult to continue, but somehow knowing that his father will never remember this, that at worse he’ll have to suffer his father’s disappointment for only a couple hours makes it easier.

“So anyway, earlier, when you said…said it wasn’t a question between you and mom which was more important? Well, I’ve got someone like that too. Wish I could introduce you properly, but it turns out in this version of reality we never…uhh...s-so even if Mom wasn’t going to fade away to nothing, I still wouldn’t have a choice. I’d have to send you back. Cas is…he’s family. He’s _my_ family. And…I can’t lose that. _Him_. Not again. Cuz I…cuz _we’re_ …”

Dean looks down at where his fingers fidget with the edge of his purple-and-black flannel shirt. It doesn’t fail to occur to him that back when his father was alive he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing such a girly color, but Cas told him once that he looked good in it and…

Dean swallows past the lump in his throat. His voice is barely audible as he continues.

“I love him. We’re…we’re together and I love him. I’ve loved him for years, and finally I just couldn’t stand it and…and since then, I—I’m good. I’m at peace. For the first time I actually _like_ who I am. Cas showed me that, and I…I wouldn’t change that for anything.”

There’s deafening silence from John as Dean looks up. John blinks at him in shock but says nothing. That’s good, because Dean isn’t finished. He draws an even breath and continues on a little stronger.

“Anyway, now you know. I wish younger me could tell you this himself but…well, younger me is a dumbass. Which is cool, he’ll grow out of it.”

Dean shrugs and offers his dad a lopsided grin. He’s got to admit, he feels pretty damn good after saying all that he has. He’s riding a wave of euphoria that’s so strong he’s certain not even _John Winchester_ can derail it.

John seems to figure out that he’s finished and clears his throat.

“Well,” he says, looking down between them rather than meet Dean’s eyes, “It sounds like you’ve done well for yourself.” He finally looks up at Dean and takes a breath. “I’m glad you’re happy, son,” he says, “I can’t say I understand it, but... Well, it’s not about me, now is it?”

He pats Dean on the back, and perhaps the gesture is a little more forced than usual, but it’s still a gesture and Dean feels the tension ease from his shoulders. He slings an arm around his father and together they go find Mom and Sam.

* * *

When it’s finally time for John to say goodbye, Dean stands in steel-faced silence. John hasn’t said anything more about what Dean told him earlier, and Dean can’t tell if his old man is silent because he doesn’t know what to say or because he’s pretending for Dean’s sake to be okay with it all. The thought makes Mom’s casserole churn unpleasantly in his stomach. His only saving grace is the thought that if John _does_ disapprove, he at least cares enough to spare Dean his opinion until after he is gone.

So he’s surprised, certainly, when John tells him again how proud he is. Of course he says it to the both Sam and him, but when he looks at Dean he _really_ looks—and Dean understands the full meaning of his father’s words. He stares in wide-eyed shock as a weight he didn’t even know he was carrying falls from his shoulders. In the next moment John is pulling him and Sammy into a fierce hug.

“I love you both, _so much_ ,” John says.

Dean’s throat burns and his eyes fill with tears.

“Love you too.”

* * *

Later, after the pearl is destroyed and his dad is gone, Dean lies on his bed in his room. He’s got one of his dad’s old mix tapes in the stereo and he’s blasting classic rock hits like he’s seventeen again. Dean bobs his head along with the music, sunk into the glorious memory foam mattress. His father might not remember his confession today, but Dean would. And this mattress would too, considering the content it has been privy to all these years.

There’s a quiet knock on his door. Dean turns down the music and calls for the person to come in. He smiles as Cas pokes his head inside.

“Hello, Dean,” the angel says, just the same as he always does, but today it feels extra special.

“Heya, Cas.”

Dean feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as he realizes with a sudden, heart-stopping lurch what he almost lost today. He launches himself to his feet and pulls Castiel into his arms. He kisses the angel deeply, thanking God—yes, that’s right, _God_ —for everything. Thanks him for Yellow Eyes, for his mom dying, for his dad raising them as hunters—for the apocalypse, purgatory, The Mark, _everything._

All of it—every single moment, both good and horrible—has led him here. And here, in Castiel’s arms, with the angel’s lips pressed against his, is exactly where Dean wants to be.

Castiel hums into his mouth and pulls back from their kiss.

“Something tells me there is more to the story of what happened today with your father than what you previously mentioned,” Cas says. He doesn’t wait for an answer, just kisses Dean again.

“Yeah,” Dean tells him at the next break, “Gonna tell you all about it. Later. Sex first.”

Castiel chuckles and gazes at him with adoring blue eyes. Then he growls low in his throat and crowds Dean back towards the bed, where he promptly disposes Dean onto the memory foam mattress and climbs on top of him.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” Castiel tells him just as he’s lowering down to place a kiss in the hollow of Dean’s neck.

“Love you too, Cas,” Dean answers breathlessly.

His head falls back to the mattress with a soft _flump_ , and the last thought to cross his mind before the mind-numbing ecstasy of angel-sex is that he feels better than he has in _years_. Possibly the best he’s ever felt. The fact that they had to destroy the pearl and Michael’s still stuck in his head yammering away at the door in his mind doesn’t even factor. As far as he’s concerned, he got his heart’s desire and nothing can take that away from him—not time, not God, not Fate or Death or druidic witches. No one can, least of all John Winchester.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this fic, you might also enjoy:
> 
> [ I Don't Want To Be Like Your Peanut Butter And Jelly](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787831) (Set after episode 12:12 _Stuck In The Middle (With You)_
> 
> [ My One-Winged Heaven ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486023) (Set after season 15 finale, canon compliant)
> 
> [ Angels In The Belfry ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25844206) (If you like the idea of a 200k+ epic that is so saccharine it will absolutely give you cavities.)
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this! Please comment and kudos and let me know what you think! :3


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